


Exodus

by SocialDisease609



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Mythology, Clexa, F/F, Mythology - Freeform, alternative universe, crack fic?, mythology AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-06-27
Updated: 2016-12-14
Packaged: 2018-07-18 11:53:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7314187
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SocialDisease609/pseuds/SocialDisease609
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Original Mythology AU. (Call it crack if you want, but I'm gonna carry the premise as professionally as possible)</p><p>In which the Skaikru are a population of humans brought to live among the stars hundreds of years ago by gods who loved them, and Grounders are the struggling population left on Earth, constantly giving desperate offerings to the gods who neglected them. The 100 are still cast out, unworthy to live in Arkadia and to ever be touched by the gods again… only to be found by Lexa and the Grounders, who hold nothing but contempt for the gods and their favorites...</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> The gods will most likely remain anonymous for now, as I feel like names will damage the eerie and mysterious aura I want for them. 
> 
> So since this is a mythology AU, there will be magical things happening. Not much, but enough. Creepy Grounder voodoo too. If you have any questions that won't result in spoilers, feel free to ask.
> 
> And as always, comments are fuel! Send me love if you want more :) lol  
> Thanks for reading.

It all felt like a dream. Clarke stood on the metal edge, hands tied behind her back, with the endless precipice of the galaxy behind her, just opening right behind her heels. She trembled, yet kept her head high as hot tears streamed down her face. Everyone else with her, those responsible of poisoning Arkadia with their wild sins, stood beside one other, also feeling the deathly wind creeping up even from behind the closed hatch at their backs. They were all so young.

            _Let this be a lesson_ …

            Clarke could hear the voice replaying in her mind…

            _To all Arkadians who feel the need to act impurely in the heavens…_

Her mother wept in the distance of the on-looking crowd, wrapped in the arms of her father, who looked on worrisome back at Clarke…

_Who took our love for granted, and forgot that we took their ancestors from the Earth to be closer to our hearts… and have these children born among the celestial plains…_

Clarke’s teeth chattered in regretful anxiety as she tried to maintain her pride, but her body betrayed any attempt of bravery.

            _You are henceforth cast out of Arkadia, forever exiled from your home and our attention. May you cry out to the sky ‘til the end of your days, ever regretful of your actions, to be met with our silence to each of your prayers._  

            “Please don’t do this,” Clarke could hear another doomed soul beg the crowd, knowing that the gods eerily resided somewhere in this room. Clarke had never seen the gods, but could hear them… she heard them whisper to her every now and then. While many were enthusiastic about being contacted by the gods, it unnerved Clarke. It sent shivers down her spine when one would whisper in her mind just how beautiful she was, and just how much of a woman her body was maturing into. She did not want to be one of the “lucky ones” who the gods took for themselves to have _loving company_ , but she knew she was on her way to becoming a favorite among some of them. The gods loved too much and without care for their humans. The gods were selfish, and that statement was made even more apparent when Clarke thought about the Grounders- more than seventy-five percent of the human species- the gods’ supposedly favorite creation- left alone on Earth. They were abandoned by the gods once they took a particular interest in humans. Clarke could only imagine the chaos on Earth as the Grounders had to fend for themselves.

            The story goes that the gods did not even dare to touch a human like a lover until one human convinced a god that they loved them with all their heart. The god believed it and did everything the human asked for, even to the point of destroying their enemies. Other gods got jealous and began to take human lovers for themselves, and soon each god was working for a select group of people. Soon, these gods got so tired of having to come to earth to be with their human lover that they just took their lovers up to the stars to be with them forever, and the rest is history.

It was a way to control the gods…  that’s how Clarke saw it … it wasn’t about love. Her entire bloodline and existence came from people who manipulated the gods to kill for their selfish desires. Not only that, but because of her ancestors, the gods never wanted to return to Earth to take care of the other humans, despite their prayers and offerings. Since there was just so much human offspring in Arkadia now, the gods never ran out of someone to love…  and it sickened her, and she let them know.

She had shouted during a community prayer that Arkadia was not a heaven, but a whorehouse, where everyone was simply kept by the gods to be fucked by the gods.

The gods would punish misbehaving humans in Arkadia every now and then, but because of Clarke, the gods had apparently reached the final straw. Everyone who had been caught doing anything remotely sinful after Clarke’s burst of _ungratefulness_ now faced no mercy.

Everyone was lined up here today because of her…    

“Just get rid of her, she’s the one who started all of this!” cried another voice in the line, his voice breaking as he croaked his plea.

Clarke didn’t know how she was still alive at that point. With the fear of falling to Earth now mixed with the fear of being murdered by her own people, she felt like she was floating, and not standing on the edge.

“I’m sorry,” Clarke tried to exclaim, but the words escaped her mouth as no more than a whisper.

_As a last gift to you, we shall protect you on your journey to the ground… where you will survive the speed, atmosphere, and impact. Remember the greatness of our power through this last act, and lament that you have lost the privilege of witnessing it forever…_

A large glass power-door began to close in front of the damned, separating them from the crowd. Instantly, all those standing beside Clarke felt an incredibly powerful gust of wind as the hatch behind them all open and before any of them could scream, they were sucked into the abyss of the stars.

There was no sound.

There was no air, yet there was no suffocation.

There was no freezing.

Just a strong magnetic pull dragging everyone through the black and starry sky, and closer to Earth.

Clarke could see the others falling beside her, terror on some faces, astonishment on others. Even Clarke couldn’t keep the small voice in the back of her head from telling her that even though she was now eternally condemned, at least she could say that no one else would be able to experience this ever again. She was traveling through the solar system by the power of the gods without death or pain.

She could see a young man, whom she wanted to say was Bellamy Blake, trying to shout, but nothing produced from his vocal cords, despite how hard he tried, as evident by the veins bulging in his neck and forehead.

No air, no sound. She remembered learning that from one of the gods. She had spent much time learning anything she could, and it intrigued some of the gods to see her thirst for knowledge, and even bestowed her with rare information here and there. They had tried to convince her that all the knowledge she was raised with was all that existed, but she was too naturally witty, and kept trying to weasel more and more information out of anyone who knew anything.

As they continued to fall, Clarke soon began to feel some heat outline her body, and knew that they were finally entering the atmospheres of Earth. The warmer it got, the faster she felt they were falling, and soon enough, her ears painfully popped and she shrieked in pain as she covered her ears instinctually. Through her hands, she could hear the muffled screams of everyone else as they too endured the abrupt pain exploding in their ears. So much for a painless journey.

The constantly gaining speed of the fall created a thunderously loud rushing sound that filled their ears as the pain began to cease. The sharp wind began to take control of their limbs, tuning their bodies over and pushing arms and legs back and forward. The air shot through any loose area of their clothing and raced across the bare skin under their garments.

Clarke could start seeing deep green trees and golden meadows, obsidian and ashen colored mountains, aqua and green blends of water, and even what seemed to be wooden structures in the distance. Her heart began to palpitate at the reality of encountering Grounders. No doubt that they would be unwelcomed here. As if the neglected child would care for the favorite.

Clarke was surrounded by the sound of screams, as the group came into contact with the trees, fear setting in as their limbs became scratched by the abrasive branches. Blood streamed from the cuts from all around their faces and arms, clothes tearing as it snagged. There was too much pain and injury happening now, and everyone who was coming closer and closer to the ground began to be filled with the same fear. The gods had lied. They sent them to Earth safely just to have them die horrifically impaled and imploded by impacts.

Clarke’s breathing picked up as her instincts were activated by this thought of fatal betrayal, raised her arms over her face to protect herself and came crashing into the side of a mountain, creating large boulders in her wake, as the massive stony debris came collapsing behind her. She tried to scream but could only gasp for air at each violent impact. Then, as she fell against the base of the mountain, finally lying still, she could feel blood flowing from open wounds. From her battered eyes she fluttered her sight open to see the dust and rocks surrounding her, and her blood feeding the grass underneath her limp body. Failing to stop her eyes from weakly fluttering once more, her eyes closed to what she repentantly accepted as death.    


	2. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clexa meet

            Heda Lexa, the thirtieth commander since the Abandonment, sat cross-legged on the floor of her shaman’s dark hut, watching the old woman slowly sway in the thick plumes of incense burning all around them. It was her duty as Commander to unite her people. To be there for them in a way that humans no longer got to experience. The gods were gone. It was the Commander’s job to find ways to fill the spiritual void for their people.

            Neglected by their creator, saved by their Commander. Taking on the responsibilities of an entire population was weary, and while each clan had their own leaders, she was still responsible for them all.

            “Arkadians,” the old woman murmured, still rocking in the fragrant smoke. The shaman’s eyes fluttered, revealing her foggy irises, a sign of her deteriorating eye sight. Lexa leaned forward to the crone, waiting for more information. Even at the mention of the word, her mouth grimaced. She and everyone she knew had hated the Arkadians. They were raised on it. It was because of them that the gods didn’t care for the Grounders. “Back on Earth… They fell from the sky…”

            “What do you mean?” Lexa asked, knowing what she heard, but just didn’t want to believe it.

            The shaman rocked little faster in the smoke, her mind’s eye working furiously for a more detailed answer. “The gods do not love them anymore… exiled. Exiled to suffer here…”

            Lexa’s frown grew more animated. Of course Earth was now just seen as a hell. Hell on Earth. Fuck the gods.

            “Where are they?”

            “Twenty miles south. At the base of the mountain… at least a hundred of them…”

            Lexa was stunned at the amount of Arkadians. If a hundred fell, how many humans lived in Arkadia? She never fathomed that there were many.

            “What should I do with them?” Lexa asked genuinely, seeking her shaman’s council.

            “… these Arkadians were abandoned by the gods, just like us. Perhaps they can be used to our advantage. Perhaps… perhaps they can be used to get the gods’ attention once more…”

            “They are not just like us,” Lexa said, standing up. “I will gather riders and we will approach these Arkadians as soon as possible. They will be our prisoners. I will present them to the people, and we will decide what to do with these Arkadians then.”

            The crone looked at her Heda from her kneeled position on the floor, hearing these words. “This may be our only chance at getting the attention of the gods again. Assess the situation as thoroughly as you can first. Do not let your anger ruin this opportunity.”

            Lexa stared at the shaman as she heard these words, knowing that the old woman was right. No matter how much she hated the gods and their love for the Arkadians, this phenomena of humans falling from the sky was not just an opportunity to take out her anger. She had to be wise about this.

            “I will try,” was all Lexa said, and saw herself out the hut.

 

            Clarke jolted awake, a surge of energy shocking her back to reality. The adrenaline had come late, arriving after the terrifying journey to the ground. Pushing herself off the ground, she stumbled back up to her feet, and looked around at her new environment. For a moment, her breath was taken away, as she took in the beautiful terrain. Long soft golden stems of wild grass swayed in unison with the wind, and the bristles and leaves of the dark green trees shifted with it. She felt like she could hear everything the earth had- a stream was perhaps nearby as she could hear the bubbling trickle of water not far off, birds cawing and whistle hidden in the trees and crossing over the sky.

            This wasn’t a hell. Hell was Arkadia. Clarke had never seen anything so beautiful and natural in her life.

            Her sightseeing was cut short as her mind began to take in reality, and multiple screams began to sporadically fill the air from all around her. Instinctually, she ran towards the source, ignoring the dull and sharp pains of her injuries finally registering within her body. Getting closer to the screams, she found a small clearing in the woods and was greeted by the sight of three Arkadians. She could recognize them as Bellamy and Octavia Blake, and a girl she had known from her past to be called Harper. Bellamy stood forcefully behind Harper, covering her mouth frantically, as the girl tried to wrestle free from his grasp. Octavia was anxiously surveying the tree lines, and then her sight landed on Clarke.

            “Clarke!” Octavia had whispered shrilly, beckoning her over. Cautiously, Clarke made her way to the three, looking around the trees herself wondering just what was going on.

            “Where’s everyone else?” Clarke asked, standing close to Octavia.

            “I don’t know about everyone,” Octavia started, keeping a hand on Clarke’s arm as she continued to look around the trees, “But a lot of us are under attack. The Grounders are here… they’re here somewhere. They took Raven and Finn and many others.”

            “Grounders?” Clarke repeated, knots forming in her stomach. “How long has it been since we landed?”

            “Hours,” Octavia estimated. “You crashed furthest from everyone else, so a few of us decided to look for you, and while we started searching we got attacked. Has it not felt like hours for you?”

            “To be honest, I’ve just come to. I crashed into the mountainside, the gods’ protection must have worn off completely after impact, which unfortunate for me, meant that my body took a lot of falling damage after that.”

            “Well it looks like it,” Octavia summed, grimly gesturing to Clarke’s torn and bloody clothes.

            “Hush!” Bellamy seethed in a harsh whisper, still holding Harper. “Do I have to shut you both up too? It is bad enough Harper here was just screaming away, just letting them know where we are. I’m pretty sure that’s how Clarke found us, isn’t it?”

            Clarke nodded uncomfortably, not wanting to insult Harper, but it was true.

            “See-”

            “Shush!” Octavia’s hand went up in the air to signal everyone to be quiet, and the small huddle of Arkadians tensed up together, listening intently for whatever it was that triggered Octavia’s senses. Clarke felt her ears perk up as she tried to differentiate any noise she heard for unnatural sounds, but she knew it was effortless because she wasn’t even sure what normal nature sounds were. If Grounders were here, she didn’t know what they would do-

            The air was knocked out of her lungs as a heavy force slammed her into the ground. Bellamy released Harper for a split second to see what had happened, and then he too was slammed into the hard terrain, followed by Octavia and Harper. Wriggling vainly, Clarke tried to wrestle free as she realized that they were being held against their will by none other than Grounders.

            They were just as terrifying as she had imagined. Their combination of scrap metal and black leather armor gave off ominous vibes, almost the perfect look for scavengers abandoned by god.

            “Please,” Clarke pleaded, her gasps making the loose dirt underneath her pressed face move, “You don’t have to hurt us.” She could hear Bellamy grunting as he almost proved to be a match for his Grounder captor, who had to put excessive strength into keeping him down.

            “No, we do not,” said a calm voice. Clarke was pulled up to her knees as a Grounder began to fasten binds to her hands behind her back. Blowing a loose strand of hair from her face, Clarke looked up at the owner of the voice.

            A young brunette stood in front of her. She wore a sturdy black leather tunic, with interior fox fur lining that was exposed at her open collar. Her majestic green eyes bore down at Clarke, and her expression was nothing more than one of superiority.

            “You don’t have to explain yourself,” the woman started, “we know exactly who you are and why you’re here. The gods do not love you anymore, and you’ll find no love here either.”

            “Why? Why can’t we just be left in peace?” Clarke implored.

            “What’s your name, Arkadian?” the woman asked, studying Clarke.

            Clarke swallowed, her throat becoming parched with anxiety. “Clarke, Clarke Griffin.”

            “My name is Heda Lexa,” said the woman, “I’m the commander of the twelve Grounder clans. It is my responsibility to keep my people happy, safe, and united. Usually the best way to do this is to keep them spiritually satisfied. That’s kind of hard to do when we all literally have no communication with the gods…”

            “Neither do we,” Clarke blurted. She didn’t know why, but the spirit inside her was riled, sensing the negative possibilities this Lexa was probably going to unravel.

            This caught Lexa’s attention, and was mute, considering Clarke’s words. To be honest, the Commander had remembered the words of her shaman, and thought that the best logical choice with these Arkadians was to use them to re-communicate with the gods. Maybe, just maybe, she could bring the gods back to her people. But now that Clarke had said this… what good were they to her?

            “Excuse me?” Lexa said, after her quick thoughts.

            “Yes, yes we do!” shouted Bellamy, still pressed into the dirt. Lexa gave one last glance at Clarke before walking over to him, gesturing the Grounder to pull him up to his knees as well.

            “Explain,” Lexa commanded.

            Bellamy looked at her deep within her eyes as he began his web of lies, “Not yet. Not at the moment. We were exiled from Arkadia, thanks to Clarke. She pissed off the gods, and just because we had broken some small rules at the same time of her actions, the gods sent us all away to make an example of us. But they still love us. After they feel like we have suffered enough, they will give us one more chance and speak to us again, to see if we want to come back home…”     

            Lexa remained silent, staring into Bellamy as if she was invading his soul. Clarke was disturbed by Bellamy’s lie, but knew that it was probably their best card right now in terms of self-preservation.

            “How long will that take?” Lexa asked, her voice low and serious.

            “I don’t know,” Bellamy said, “But staying alive probably has something to do with it.”

            It only took a split second for Lexa’s seriousness to dissipate and be instantly replaced by a hauntingly hearty laugh. The Grounders around her shifted uncomfortably, looking at each other, lost in the reason why their Heda was all of a sudden so tickled. 

            “One of the oldest tricks in the book,” she said, mockingly nudging Bellamy’s chin lightly with her fist. “Make someone believe you’re not disposable. Almost had me believing you for a second, but if the gods really did want you _eventually_ , they wouldn’t have put you here: with all the people they _never_ wanted.” Her voice returned to its serious demeanor as she said those last words.

            “He’s telling the truth, though,” spoke up Clarke, exhausted at the thought of continuing Bellamy’s lie. “I upset the gods because I learned too much about them and called them out.”

            Lexa’s eyebrows raised up in intrigue. “You called the gods out? A woman after my own heart,” the commander said, continuing her mocking tone as she walked back over to Clarke. She looked down at the deep blue eyes sternly gazing up at her as Clarke stayed still in her forced kneeling position. “Gods have really become sensitive if they gave up someone as beautiful as you.”

            Clarke swallowed hard at the comment, more irritated than flattered.

            “Please, continue,” Lexa said with a half attempted smile, amused at Clarke’s offense.

            “I said some things that made them feel like I was ungrateful. So to punish me, and to send a message to everyone else, they sent all of us to earth until they believe we have learned our lesson,” Clarke continued, making it up as she went. “They’ll come back for us, no doubt. I was… I was becoming too much of a favorite for them to not.”

            “Gods’ whore,” muttered the grounder restraining Harper.

            “So what do you think will happen if you were to die, Clarke Griffin?” Lexa asked low and ominously. Clarke searched the green eyes of the Grounder commander, trying to find the intent in her words. “Will they come and… save you?” Clarke felt her lips tighten at the Commander’s not so subtle threat, and remained silent.

            “You probably wouldn’t like to find out.” Everyone turned their attention to Octavia, who had spoken these words. “We know about your people, and how you must feel to be abandoned by the gods for so many generations. How about you be smart about this and take us to your people? Surely they would all like to decide what to do with us, especially since this might be your only chance to regain the attention of the gods.”

            Lexa grit her teeth as heard this other Arkadian speak, and didn’t have to instruct the guard holding the dark haired girl for him to lay a crackling slap across Octavia’s face. However, the girl was right. Skaikru ruse or not, it was her duty to fill the spiritual void in the hearts of her people, and perhaps brining these Arkadians to her village would do exactly that. While Commander Lexa had a vendetta against the Arkadians and the gods’ love for them, she knew she had to work for her people, not for her own ego.   

            “Fine,” Lexa settled, resting her left hand on the pommel of her sword. “We will take you to our villages, and our people will decide if you are useful or not. Fasten a single rope to all their binds, so that they are all attached. If one tries to make a run for it, the rest will slow them down. As for the rest of Skaikru, send an order out to everyone that I want all Arkadians captured alive and sent to me.”

            “Yes, Heda,” murmured her obedient guards, who went straight to accomplishing their task. Clarke was pulled up to her feet, and dared not to move an inch as a rope was sturdily tied to the binds between her cramped wrists. Being led to and fro, like a dog on a leash, she was soon tied to Octavia who was in front of her, Bellamy who was behind her, and Harper trialing in the back behind him. In the midst of the travel preparations, the Grounders brought horses for themselves, and the front end of the long rope tying the four Arkadians together was tied to a Grounder’s saddle.

            “So that if one of you tries to run, we’ll punish you by dragging you all through a gallop,” the Commander notified, a small mischievous grin taking form on her lips.

            They took off immediately, and Clarke could’ve sworn that the Grounder they were tied to was purposely trotting at a quickening pace every now and then just to watch her and the others stumble behind. The hushed chuckles of the other Grounders confirmed her suspicions. They went on like this for hours on end, to the point where the sun felt like it was burning through her sweat drenched clothes and her feet felt hot and swollen in her shoes. Soon she and her comrades couldn’t keep up enough, and their feet dragged as the Grounders kept up their sporadic game of increasing speed.

            “Come on, Clarke, you can do it,” Bellamy whispered the encouragement, even though Clarke could hear his own weakness emanating from it. “You can do it.” He must have seen her start to sway and slip with every other step.

            “I’m so tired,” she drowsily admitted, almost feeling like her soul was ready to leave her body, just to take a much needed rest as her empty shell continued the march. The sun was finally coming to a full set, and all that could be seen on the western horizon was a piercing orange light being swallowed by hills and dense trees. The top of the sky already cooling to dark blue and indigo hues.

            “Clarke, they’ll stop soon, they have to. If not for us, at least for the horses.”

            “I-” before Clarke could respond, she landed a misstep and her ankle took an awkward bend, sending a sharp pain from her foot all the way up to her calf muscle. Falling straight to the ground, her weight pulled at the grounder’s saddle and the rest of the line, instantly grabbing his attention.

            He began to yell obscenities at her, yanking the rope to order her to stand up. Clarke tried, but the pain in her ankle was too white hot for her to put any weight on it.

            “I can’t,” Clarke said, fighting back tears.

            “Get up!” He shouted, “or I’ll drag you!”

            “Stop!” shouted Lexa’s voice. The guard instantly silenced as Lexa trotted her stallion over to the scene. From her saddle, she looked down at Clarke, a tear finally escaping down her cheek as she attempted to raise herself from a kneel. Bellamy and Octavia leaned in close to the wounded woman, looking up at the Commander with both fear and bravery, ready to intervene at any second to protect Clarke. Sighing, the commander dismounted from her saddle and walked over to the bound Arkadians. “Are the rest of you broken, as well?”

            The remaining three Skaikru cautiously shook their heads.

            “Good, we don’t need a broken woman holding up the line, do we? She’ll only slow the rest of you down.” Everyone watched as Clarke was removed from the line, yet still bound by her initial ties. Then, Lexa replaced the line back onto the remaining prisoners. “No interruptions now.”

            “Don’t you dare hurt her,” Bellamy weakly growled.

            Lexa scoffed at the pitiful threat and let Clarke lean against her. “I’m not going to _kill_ anyone until my people collectively say so,” Lexa said curtly, replacing the word harm for one that was more realistic to her probably actions. They all watched as Lexa helped Clarke limp her way towards the Commander’s horse.

            Bellamy and Octavia felt their hearts plummet, and Harper gasped, as they watched Lexa reach for a knife fastened behind her back. The Heda unsheathed the cold clean steel and firmly placed her free hand on Clarke’s back, forcing her into leaning against the sturdy horse.

            “What are you-?” Clarke question was muffled as she attempted to look back, but was shoved once again by the Commander, who then swiftly brought the knife to Clarke’s back. Before Bellamy could muster the strength to consider charging Lexa, his heart froze in relief as he saw that all the Commander had intended was to cut the thick ropes holding Clarke’s wrists together.  

            “You’re going to ride with me for the rest of the journey,” Lexa said softly. “When we make it to the nearest village, we’ll have someone look at that ankle for you.” Everyone watched in disbelief as the Commander helped the young woman up on the saddle, and then immediately followed, seated behind Clarke. “Are you thirsty?” Clarke’s heart raced at the promise of water was implied, yet conflicted with the Commander all of a sudden being so caring. She had read in books that an old manipulation tactic was to get captives to favor their captors by being given small rewards after enduring torture.

            “Here,” Lexa offered, opening a canteen and handing it to Clarke. She took it and exhaled deeply as the water coursed down her parched throat. She could feel the coolness of it spread throughout her mind and entire body. When she had her fill, because she didn’t want to take it all, she gasped as she pulled the canteen away from her lips. “Better?” Lexa’s voice soothed, as Clarke’s chest heaved up and down with relief.

            “The others,” Clarke breathed, weakly gesturing to Bellamy, Octavia, and Harper. “Let them drink, too.” Lexa leaned her neck to look at Clarke, a playful, yet warning, smile gracing her lips. “Please,” Clarke corrected, remembering that she was at the mercy of a Commander, and was in no position to give orders.

            “Let them drink,” Lexa ordered her guards, and took hold of the reins. “They can walk and drink.”

            The guards groaned at having to share with these favorites, yet surrendered their canteens to the weary prisoners, who desperately guzzled as much water as they could before the canteens were snatched away.

            “Come,” Lexa commanded, pressing her heels into the side of her stallion to get him to start walking, “We’re not far, let’s continue our ride.”

    


	3. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke meets Lexa's shaman, and Raven and Monty are captured and brought to the village.  
> Raven proposes a plan to get Clarke to influence Lexa's decisions...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Raven is part of the 100 in this story lol  
> Maaaybbbee sexy times in the next chapter. Who knows lol

            They had made it to a nearby village about an hour later. Due to the late hour and their stealthy arrival, none of the inhabitants had awoken from their sleep to gawk at the fallen angels of Arkadia. Clarke couldn’t help the survival instinct pumping in her veins, as she took mental note of the fact that this village did not seem to have a watch-group. The Grounders had retired their horses at a stable, where the beasts hungrily devoured hay and water. Bellamy, Octavia, and Harper were pulled by the thick rope stringing them all together towards one of the many log cabins deep within the village, and were quickly hit on the back of the head whenever one would even try to raise their voice in protest for being separated from Clarke.

            While the Commander had shown a sample of mercy during the tail-end of their horseback journey, all sympathy seemed to dwindle as Clarke was now expected to hobble after her as Lexa leisurely made her way towards a peculiar cabin with a thin plume of white smoke emanating from the stone chimney. The Commander made a soft knock on the door and waited. Clarke tried to put as much weight on her good ankle as she felt her injured one continue to throb and send sharp pains up and down her calf muscle. The door opened with a faint creak and an old woman stood at the threshold.

            “Heda,” The woman said, her foggy eyes squinting as she tried to take in a clearer vision of her leader, “You have returned.”

            “Yes, Master Shaman,” Lexa said politely, “I have, and with some of the Arkadians in tow.”

            The Shaman leaned her next to her right to observe Clarke. “You have hurt her?”

            “No,” Lexa replied quickly, trying not to be offended by her shaman’s assumption. “I believe she twisted her ankle on the journey here. I was wondering if you could help look at her wounds?”

            The old crone nodded and waved her thin arm, beckoning for them to enter the hut. “Help the child,” she said. Lexa swallowed roughly, her pride a little bruised by having an order directed at her. The Commander shooed any remaining Grounder riders away from her and Clarke, giving the order to not harm the other Arkadians and have them rest. Clarke waited for Lexa to make her way towards her, and delicately placed her weight on the woman, not wanting to burden this frustrated leader any further.

            “What is your name, Arkadian?” The old woman asked, as she removed some books and parchment off of the only cot in the small hut.

            “Clarke Griffin,” Clarke responded, immediately recognizing this old woman to be someone who could positively affect this situation.

            “My name is Shaman Iso, I serve Heda Lexa in her duties to provide spiritual solace for all the people in her care.”

            “Nice to meet you,” Clarke said habitually.

            The crone smiled at Clarke’s manners. “You too, my dear. I’m sure you know all about the conflict in our culture regarding the Arkadians? Heda, please, let’s rest her on the cot.”

            Lexa wrapped an arm around Clarke’s waist for a better grip in walking the wounded woman over to the simple bed. When Clarke sat down, Lexa immediately removed herself and placed a significant distance between them.

            “Lie down, Clarke,” Iso soothingly ordered. Clarke obeyed and laid down, feeling the shaman attempt to gently rotate the boot on her right foot trying to find space between the leather and her swollen foot. Clarke grimaced, but focused her energy on stifling her pain, knowing that persistant displays of pain would only slow the woman down. Soon the boot was taken off her swelling foot, and the sock peeled off by a swift pull of Iso’s hands.

            Curious at the injury herself, Clarke raised herself on her elbows to watch the shaman take in the injury. There was a pool of burgundy and dark purple underneath her skin by her ankle bone.

            “It’s sprained alright,” Iso frowned. “She will not be able to do much traveling, Heda, not even on horseback. It’s best if she keeps her ankle elevated for a couple of days.”

            Lexa sighed, “I have to take these Arkadians to Polis, Iso. The Capital is the best place to brief my people on the discovery of the fallen Arkadians. And there are still more out there that we must round up.”

            “I understand, Heda,” Iso said, closing her foggy eyes for a brief moment. “However, if you are looking for more of them, why not let her stay here until you do?”

            “I just want to get this over with,” Lexa confessed, rubbing the bridge of her nose. “I don’t even know if we can find a hundred of them. By now most of them will have dispersed, especially since they did not land in a collective spot. The sooner I let the people witness these Arkadians, even just Clarke and her party, the better I will have an actual direction on what the people want to do with them.”

            “Heda,” Iso said, her elderly voice carrying sympathy. She placed her wrinkled hand on the Commander’s shoulder in an attempt at comfort. “Tell the people here, it does not have to be done in Polis first. The people in this village deserve to know what they are harboring, and they will tell others. Give this girl three days to heal. We must show the Gods who we are. This situation isn’t just about the Arkadians, this is a moment for us too.”

            Clarke could see muscles in Lexa’s jaw twitch as the Commander listened to the shaman’s advice, her arms crossed over her chest.

            “Fine,” Lexa replied, “I will let the people know in the morning. Within these three days I will send riders to gather as many Arkadians as possible. After the three days are over, I will take all the Arkadians we have gathered to Polis, to face a trial. Their fate on Earth will be decided then.”

            Iso smiled gratefully and removed her hand from the Commander’s shoulder to go back to tightly wrap Clarke’s ankle.

            “See you in the morning,” Lexa said with a gruff voice, and saw herself out the hut.

            When enough silence had passed, Clarke swallowed her anxiety and asked “What will the people do to us?”

            “I’m sure you know that the gods have abandoned us ever since the creation of Arkadia. Naturally, our people have become scorned towards the idea of the gods and their favorites. No prayers or offerings have ever been answered. The discovery of Arkadians on Earth will definitely create mixed feelings. I personally believe that your people can be used to restore communication and attention from the gods. There will be people like me, but there will also be people who want immediate revenge. Our Heda has one of the most strenuous duties, and where she may stand on this personally cannot be the deciding factor. She is here to make her people happy and spiritually satisfied. If the people say satisfaction is gained through your death, then she must oblige.”

            “That’s ridiculous,” Clarke muttered. “She’s your leader, her opinion should be considered too.”

            “It is considered, but she would be abusing her leadership if she believed she had the authority to force her opinion into being the deciding factor. She has the right to present her opinion at the trial, but only the people’s vote will decide your fate.”

            “… how can she be your leader if she has no authoritative power?”

            “She does have authoritative power. She commands our military, governs our economy and civilized growth through medical fields and schools, performs executions, and proposes laws. However, when it comes to her spiritual duties, her goal is to fulfil her people’s spiritual desires. In this field, what they say goes. Heda is an agent of her people.”

            “What do you think the Commander feels about this situation personally?” Clarke asked, afraid to venture into the possibilities. But she knew that getting Lexa to be reasonable about the Arkadians was a step in the right direction in terms of her survival, and beggars cannot be choosers in desperate times.

            “She hates Arkadians,” Iso confessed, “A lot of young people were raised on hate, however. To be Heda though is to think with a collective mind, taking into consideration all the perspectives of her people. So while she may personally hate the concept of your people, Clarke, she still stubbornly fights it. She knows she must be more than her hate.”

            “What does this mean for me?” Clarke asked.

            “It means she’s not going to hurt you until she’s allowed to. For these three days, she won’t act on hate.”  

            “Can I talk to her? Do you think I can present my case to her?”

            “I do not know. As Heda, she takes in the perspective of all her people, even those on trial. But you are not her people.” Iso watched Clarke’s face fall as she heard these words, and the shaman felt pity. “However, if I was you, I would still try. Before the trial, because she may not grant you the opportunity then. During this time when you know she’s not going to harm you is your best chance to get her to listen to you.”

            “Thank you,” Clarke said feebly, lying back on the cot. She would have to try tomorrow, and the day after that, and the day after that. Her life and the others depended on it.

 

            The next morning Clarke woke up to hearing a commotion outside the hut. Forgetting about her injury, she swung her legs over the cot and almost pressed her feet on the wooden floor until pins and needles ran up her right foot just by the slightest touch of her toes on the floor. She noticed that Iso wasn’t anywhere to be found in the small hut, and began to hobble towards the door. She pulled the wooden door open just enough for her to peek through, just in case exposing herself would bring danger.

            As she peeked through the crack in the door she saw a crowd of grounders with their backs towards her, and in front of them stood the Commander, stoic with her hands behind her back as the crowd shouted and groaned.

            “This is a tremendous event in our history,” Lexa said, as her words became understandable to Clarke, “The presence of these Arkadians may bring back the attention of the gods. I hear and understand your pain, my people, however, as is our custom, I urge you to respect my decision to withhold any torture or punishment towards the Arkadians until their trial. We will depart to Polis in three days starting today, and you are all welcome to join on this pilgrimage. All your voices and desires will be heard in their trial. During the time being, I have assigned riders to search for more, but as of right now all we have are six of them.”

            Six? Clarke searched her memories, remembering that as on last night it was just her, Bellamy, Octavia, and Harper. She pushed the door open a little more to gain more sight, and gasped when she saw that to the left of the Commander stood her three companions from last night and two more- Raven and Monty.

            “Where’s the other one?” someone in the crowd shouted. “There are only five here.”

            “The sixth is being healed-”

            The crowd erupted in disapproval.

            “I plan on restoring her to enough health so that she can travel. If this is an opportunity to regain the gods attention, I would like them to consider that we took care of their _favorites_ until reaching our justice system.”         

            Some members in the crowd nodded in approval, agreeing with Lexa’s sense of following a protocol instead of being emotionally driven, while others still shook their heads vehemently, demanding violence for their emotional troubles.

            The door swung open and Clarke stifled a gasp as Iso rushed her aged body inside, pushing Clarke gently away from the doorframe and closed the door shut behind her.

            “What are you doing?” The shaman asked worriedly. “If someone saw you, they would have rushed inside, and I doubt the Heda could have stopped them before they got at least some injuries into you. The only reason the others weren’t attacked was because they would have to go through Heda first.”

            “I want to see my friends,” Clarke said, “When were they found?”

            “They were not far from here, apparently. They were found two hours before sunrise.”

            “Lexa has had riders out all night?”

            “They will be searching until the third day is over,” Iso said obviously.

            “Can I see them?”

            “Only with the Heda’s permission.”

            “… can you ask her for me?”

            Iso started at Clarke sternly. “You’re almost as stubborn as her,” the shaman said. “Wait here, I’ll see if I can get you an audience.”

            “Thank you,” Clarke said with an eager smile.

            Iso frowned and turned back out of the hut, leaving Clarke alone.

            It had felt like hours when the door to the hut finally opened, and Lexa stepped in first.

            Clarke stood up as quickly as her injury would allow, and offered the Commander a smile. Lexa looked Clarke up and down, with a plain expression on her face.

            “Do you have a walking stick?” the Commander asked, skipping any pleasant greetings.

            “No, I don’t, but I can limp over there, I’ll be fine.”

            “You will not limp,” Lexa commanded, her voice sending a faint shiver down Clarke’s spine. “Iso, give Clarke something to support herself.”

            The shaman quickly came into the hut behind Lexa and rummaged through her belongings until she found a simple walking stick and handed it to Clarke.

            “I will permit you to speak to the other Arkadians only for fifteen minutes, under my supervision. After you have had your moment with them you will return to Iso’s hut to continue your healing.”

            “Thank you,” Clarke said, forcing herself to be grateful. She was, though, but Lexa’s lack of caring was irritating her. Lexa’s nodded as she accepted Clarke’s thanks and turned out the door, expecting Clarke to follow her. Figuring out the proper synchronization between her instinct to walk naturally and to utilize the walking stick, Clarke quickly made her way behind the Commander and through the town, where many of the Grounders stared at her, figuring her to be the last Arkadian that they did not see that morning.

            Soon, they came in view of a caged wooden animal pen, and inside were her fellow Arkadians. Locked away like feral creatures. Lexa stopped at a distance and beckoned Clarke to go on ahead without her.

            “I will watch you from here, you will have privacy in words, but if I see you touch one of them or hand something to one of them your privilege will be revoked.”

            Clarke nodded in understanding and limped her way over with her walking stick.

            Raven was the first to look up, and ran up to place her hands on the wooden bars as Clarke came closer.

            “Clarke!”

            When the others heard Raven’s exclamation they also stood up and quickly made their way to the barrier.

            “Guys,” Clarke greeted breathlessly, feeling a tinge of happiness for the first time in a while.

            “How are you?” Raven asked, looking at Clarke’s walking stick.

            “I’ll be better soon,” Clarke admitted. “The Commander is giving me three days to get better before we set out for the capital.” Raven watched Lexa from behind Clarke, looking the Commander up and down with contempt.

            “We know,” Raven muttered. “Listen, Clarke, you have to stall out your injury.”

            Clarke raised an eyebrow at Raven’s whispered words, but noticed that the Commander did not seem to care, and just watched from a distance. “Why?”

            “Well from the looks of it, it seems the only reason why we haven’t faced “justice” is because she wants you to be healthy first. And based on what Octavia and Bellamy have told me she literally stopped your trek to have you ride with her.”

            “Because I was injured.”

            “Clarke, don’t be navie,” Raven continued, “Yeah, she’s being considerate of your injury, but it’s obvious that it’s more than an injury.”

            “I don’t follow,” Clarke said, continuing their whispered tone.

            “She finds you attractive, Clarke,” Harper said, and Octavia and Bellamy nodded.

            “What?”

            “When we first landed she made comments about you being beautiful,” Octavia said. “And I’m pretty sure that if she really did care about one of us being injured- if anyone else got a sprained ankle she would have them ride with someone else. She personally took your injury as an opportunity to be close to you.”

            “She gave you her water so that she could indulge in you for a bit, that’s all she was doing,” Bellamy chipped in.

            “Stop you guys,” Clarke said, shaking her head.

            “I literally just saw her looking at you a moment ago,” Raven continued. “I bet she said she would come along to watch you, but she’s not even listening because you just standing there is enough to distract her. Use this to our advantage. Influence her.”

            “With what?” Clarke asked, becoming hot at the implication this conversation was heading towards.

            “She’s been calling shots based off of you. Either stall out your injury or get her to value you.”

            “You’re asking me to sleep with her.”

            “ _We’re_ asking you to get her to protect us. You’re the only one not locked in a pen! If she is into you, string her along. You don’t have to sleep with her. Just… just distract her enough to have this end out good for everyone. Make her want to keep us alive. Take one for the team.”

            “I can’t believe you’re asking me to do this,” Clarke said, completely offended and disgusted. The Commander was a beautiful woman, for sure, Clarke would admit, but under the circumstances there was no way she would even develop fake feelings towards Lexa.

            “We just need time, Clarke, that’s it,” Bellamy pleaded. “We’re working on an escape route. The Grounders let us dig holes in the dirt of this pen to bury… excrement, because they won’t let us out for any reason, so we’re digging extra holes and refilling them with loose dirt. When we get an expanded enough hole we’re gonna crawl out from under here and run away. We just need you to distract her attention enough for us to do this, and when you finally get her to … let you walk around freely, or if you make it to her bed, whatever, slip out when she’s asleep and we’ll all escape out of here.”

            Clarke pursed her lips at the plan, knowing that the chance of escaping was favorable, but having to sacrifice her body, and to seduce someone with false affections bothered her moral heart.

            “Let me think on it,” Clarke offered in a surrendered whisper.

            “Think quick,” Bellamy frowned, “or we’ll escape without you.”     


	4. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Plan Get-Into-Lexa's-Bed is greenlit...

            Clarke had thought deeply about what her friends had told her. Survival meant swallowing pride. She knew the Commander had a chance to represent her and the other Arkadians in a fair light all on her own, but would Lexa do such a thing? Iso had told her that almost all the Grounders hated Arkadians, and instant retribution would most likely be their desire, and Lexa was sworn to fulfill their desires. The Commander had been gentle, however, and maybe her friends were on to something. It was a hideous plan to Clarke. If Lexa did feel attracted to her, she felt guilty about manipulating the woman’s feelings. And then to top it off: if she had succeeded in getting Lexa to take her to bed, who’s to say that the escape plan would work? That they wouldn’t be caught halfway through?

            Clarke had battled these thoughts for hours. Lexa had quietly escorted Clarke back to Iso’s hut within fifteen minutes, as she said she would. Iso would check in on her for the most part, stopping by to give food and water while checking on the injury.

            Clarke spent the first day willing her ankle to heal rapidly. If she wished to escape with the others, she had to be in a condition to at least jog by the third day. Whenever she was left alone, she would stubbornly lap the small hut, doing what she could to keep her muscles from atrophying. It was painful, of course, but the sprain was not as bad as she had seen on others in the past, and knew that proper rest and exercise was her best plan.

            On the second day, Lexa had stopped by the hut to check on Clarke’s progress, no doubt making sure that three days would be all they would need to get back on the road again. She mentioned that they had caught three more Arkadians that night, two boys and one girl. Clarke wondered who they were and if she knew them personally.

            Clarke knew an opportunity when she saw it. Since Lexa was difficult to get a hold of, her best bet into getting more attention from her was to do so when the Commander came on her own volition. Now that Iso had left the hut to grab some supplies from a small market stall, it was just the two of them, and Clarke decided that this would be a good opportunity to show Lexa just how far she had come.

            She placed her walking stick against the cot and began to limp across the small room at a reasonable pace, and the Commander nodded in approval at her progress.

            “You heal fast,” Lexa noted, leaning against the wall as she watched Clarke perform another lap. “Must be your Arkadian blood.”

            “I don’t think the sprain was that bad to begin with,” Clarke said, ignoring the comment about her Arkadian biology. It was a myth about Arkadians that Clarke didn’t buy: that the original Arkadians were gifted with talents and skills, which were passed on through the Arkadian generations. But since Clarke never found mentions of it in any of the scriptures written by the gods, Clarke reduced the tale to complete mythology, meant to make the Arkadians feel more special and narcissistic than before. “I think it was just incredibly swelled from the hours of walking before it happened. But because you allowed me to rest, you gave my body a chance to cool down and assess the injury for what it really was. Thanks to you. You really didn’t have to do that for me.” Clarke made sure that the last part of her words was spoken as sweetly as possible, without coming off too strong. The Commander noticed to the tone for sure, as Clarke saw her jawline twitch for a second.

            “I did it to make time,” Lexa said.

            Clarke frowned at Lexa’s subtle attempt to knock down any friendly foundation Clarke was trying to build.

            “Well yeah, I’m sure you did. You seem like a very … punctual person.” Clarke cringed at her recovery attempt. “Look,” Clarke turned to face Lexa, resting her weight on a small dresser, “I know you hate my people, so I know I’m not going to be treated like royalty here on earth. It’s just… for what it’s worth, I do appreciate your kindness. You took me up on your horse with you and gave me water. You may have done it to …. I don’t know, quiet us, but if your were cruel, you would have dragged me and my people, and kept us parched. You were kind enough to intervene and save me.”

            Lexa sighed, crossing her arms over her chest. The Commander was looking down at the dirt floor now, avoiding any possible eye contact as she thought of something to say back.

            “For what it’s worth,” Clarke repeated, “If I am going to die in a couple days, I’m glad you showed me some kindness. Please don’t take your kindness away from me. Just let me believe that’s what it was.”

            The Commander closed her eyes, still in her stiff position. With another deep exhale, Lexa muttered, “You’re welcome.”

            “… thank you,” Clarke said, feeling like she may have found a chink in Lexa’s emotional armor. Her friends might have been right. The Commander was attracted to her enough to care about her feelings to some degree, that she couldn’t even let herself destroy Clarke’s reputation of her. “So how do you think the trial will go?” Clarke asked, trying to fill the silence.

            Lexa opened her eyes to study Clarke’s inquiring face. “It depends on my people.”

            “I understand that,” Clarke said polietely, taking a couple more limped steps towards the Commander, “But I mean… you. Iso told me you will present your case to your people before  public verdict is reached. What do you… what do you feel about me?”

            Clarke realized that she was standing a bit too close to the young leader, but kept her feet firm in her spot, hoping that her closeness would be positively received.

            Lexa’s eyes dropped to Clarke’s lips for a brief second, causing Clarke to blush lightly.

            “I don’t think anything about you,” Lexa replied, looking back into Clarke’s eyes. “You’re an Arkadian. A _favorite_ to the gods, as you put it when we first met.”

            “There has to be more to it,” Clarke said softly, gently prodding Lexa’s perspective.  

            “I feel like you’re the only one worth keeping.”

            There it was. The admission Clarke didn’t want to hear that confirmed Raven’s suspicions.

            “The rest are worth keeping too,” Clarke said, trying not to sound defensive.

            “You’re a favorite. Gods fuck their favorites.”

            Clarke cringed at the brute choice of Lexa’s words.

            “The gods have never touched me,” Clarke muttered.

            “I’m sure they were getting ready to. If you didn’t get yourself exiled, I’m pretty sure they would have taken you. Because you’re a favorite, the odds of the gods paying attention to earth again are a lot higher than keeping any of the spares around.” Lexa was still leaning against the wall, arms crossed with a nonchalant demeanor, and it irritated Clarke. How was she supposed to seduce this woman when she was always so snappy and hurtful with words?

            “You don’t know if the others are favorites or not,” Clarke pointed out, “I shared that information about me, but who knows who else is.”

            Lexa gave a small smile. “That is true,” she said, “but it might not matter in the end. We’ll see what my people say.” She gently pushed herself off the wall and turned to leave, and was out the door.

            Clarke sighed deeply, alone, and fearing that this plan was good for nothing. It was impossible to get this woman into bed in three days- one day left, now that she thought of it.

 

            On the third day Clarke was making stronger laps around the room. She figured if seducing Lexa was going to fall through, then running out of her with the others was her best chance at survival. She would just had to figure out how to sneak out of her at night once Iso fell asleep on the roll of blankets she laid on the floor. Clarke felt bad about the old woman offering up her cot to Clarke, when she knew the shaman needed the bed more than her.

            Later in the evening, Clarke was pacing the room as usual when Iso claimed that the Commander wished to see her progress. Surprised by the order, Clarke left her walking stick in the hut and began to walk besides the aged woman outside in the village. Her limp was almost gone, and it could only be noticed by an attentive eye. She could see the others still dreadfully looked in their pen, looking miserable and weak. Murphy, Finn, and Monroe, former classmates of hers, had joined the ranks. In the distant, the sharp orange sun was setting over the horizon.

            When they approached the Commander’s hut, Clarke noticed that there was no one else inside with her, and that she was simply sitting at a table reading a book.

            “Leave us, Iso,” Lexa said polietely, “I wish to speak to the Arkadian privately. I must know if there is any value to her people before she faces trial.”

            “Yes, Heda,” Iso obeyed, bowing at the threshold.

            When the shaman had left, Lexa looked Clarke up and down quickly before saying, “Your healing process is astonishing, Clarke. Are you able to travel tomorrow?”

            Clarke could hear Raven’s voice ring out in her mind: _stall out your injury_.

            She needed more time to seduce Lexa, and pretending that she wasn’t fully healed might be the way to do it.

            “I’m not sure,” Clarke lied, watching the Commander’s face sink from professionalism to disappointment. “I think I have been practicing walking for too long. It’s been swelling up after just a couple minutes of walking.”

            Lexa stood up from the table and walked over to her. “… this is unacceptable, Clarke. I cannot keep my people waiting for long.”

            “I’m sorry, Lexa,” Clarke said, trying to stand her ground and not cower over Lexa’s rising voice. “Just one more day? I think I should take a rest day and stay in bed all day tomorrow. Then we can set out.”

            Lexa’s breathing was quickened a bit, fury and impatience building in her chest.

            “Think of the gods,” Clarke tried, reaching for any figurative branch. “Show them your patience and understanding as a leader on earth. Show them how you cared for us…”

            “Fuck the gods,” Lexa answered.

            “Lexa, please,” Clarke pleaded. “Just one more day. One more day and you can make your people proud by fulfilling their trial. Just…” an idea popped into Clarke’s head. It might have been farfetched, but it could help. “Just one more day… to let me see you.”

            The Commander’s expression was washed over by confusion as her ears perked at Clarke’s soft words. “What do you mean?” Lexa asked, truly curious.

            “I…” Clarke paused out of being uncomfortable with lying, but carried on, “I don’t want to admit it, because you hate me so much, and I shouldn’t feel this way about you, but I can’t stop thinking about you. And it’s just so damned because of course I would start falling for someone who wants me dead. It almost feels like punishment after punishment. First losing the gods, then falling for unrequited … affection.” Clarke held back the word love. If she was going to lie, she wasn’t going to use the word love.

            The Commander’s eyes searched Clarke’s face frantically, as if trying to detect a lie. “Clarke, I….”

            “It’s okay, I know you don’t feel the same way. I just thought it would be good for me to get that off my chest,” Clarke said, “I’ll just see myself out.”

            As Clarke reached for the door, Lexa stopped her, gently pulling her arm away from the handle. Turning around to face the Commander to inquire why she had stopped her, Lexa pulled her in close to her and kissed her. Clarke’s heart jolted with excitement that … that her plan had worked? Or that she was truly taken in by the kiss? Clarke didn’t want to start distinguishing feelings now, and just went with it. She cautiously wrapped her arms around Lexa’s waist, physically encouraging the woman to continue kissing her.

            They were deep and needy kisses, with Lexa’s hand gently sliding through her blonde hair, softly massaging Clarke’s scalp in the process. When the Commander had her full of kisses, she pulled their lips away but kept their bodies pressed together.    

            “I can’t believe the odds,” The Commander whispered, “I felt it too. When I first saw you. Even all bloodied and bruised, I couldn’t keep myself from mentioning your beauty. I felt the same- of course I couldn’t stop wanting someone I shouldn’t. I should hate you, but I can’t.”

            Clarke’s heart dropped as she felt the most guilty she ever had in her life.

            “Let’s not talk,” Clarke whispered, slidding her hands down Lexa’s abdomen to the front of her hips. It was an attempt to distract Lexa from opening up further. Clarke’s conscious would compromise the mission if she continued.

Picking up the implication of Clarke’s touch, Lexa asked, “Are you sure? Is this what you want?”

“Yes,” Clarke whispered, appreciating Lexa’s confirmation of consent. “You?”

Lexa swallowed anxiously, before nodding, “Yes, if only we could be allowed more time together.”

 _We can,_ Clarke said to herself, _you have the power to._ But Clarke knew that Lexa’s sense of duty was eternal, and getting her to be selfish over her people was an impossible outcome.

Lexa led Clarke to her bed and gently pushed the Arkadian onto the mattress. Clarke’s form instantly relaxed against it, having not felt the comfort of a real bed for days, and enjoyed the warmth of Lexa’s weight pressing onto her. The older woman began to leave kisses against Clarke’s neck, causing her eyes to flutter weakly as her body responded to the welcomed affection. Clarke was happy that her body was responding so well. As she found herself genuinely wanting to enjoy this, she let the memory of her mission slip away.

Lexa’s hands were too soft and comforting, to her surprise. She let Lexa strip her of her clothes, blushing under Lexa’s gaze.

“The gods are so stupid,” she muttered, astonished at Clarke’s body. Lexa cupped one of Clarke’s breasts with a firm kneed, emanating a small groan of pleasure from the woman beneath her. “You’re too beautiful, I would never let you go, no matter what you did.”

“Well it’s a good thing they did, huh?” Clarke whispered, tugging at Lexa’s own clothing. Catching the hint, Lexa removed her top and pants, and then returned to the caressing of Clarke’s body.

“Mhmm,” Lexa groaned against her neck as her hand traveled down Clarke’s stomach to her sex, feeling a surprising amount of arousal. “I can’t help but entertain the thought that I’m stealing you…”

“What do you mean?” Clarke asked, barely getting the words out as Lexa’s fingers slid dangerously up and down the wet folds of her sex.

“It’s nothing,” Lexa retreated her thoughts, “It does not belong in this moment.” Her lips pressed against Clarke’s collar bones, leaving a quick nip here and there.

“I bet I can guess,” Clarke said, subtly grinding into Lexa’s wandering hand, as she wrapped her arms around Lexa’s shoulders. She pulled the Commander down so that her right ear was next to her mouth. “You’re thinking that you’re going to fuck me before the gods get to, huh?”

“Yes,” Lexa moaned, her hands trembling at Clarke’s revelation of her fantasy.

“Well you are,” Clarke instigated with a seductive whisper, amused by the pleasure words brought to Lexa. Lexa let out another shaky breath, huddled against the crook of Clarke’s neck, and before Clarke could say another word, she let out a sharp gasp. Lexa’s fingers pushed in quickly and began to coax in and out, in and out. Clarke’s head swam and she gripped onto Lexa’s shoulders even tighter than before, trying to steady the broken moans coming out of her throat. Kisses returned on her neck, collar bone- a quick nip and suck on her breasts- Lexa’s affections were everywhere as the rhythmic pleasure pushed and pulled inside of Clarke.

Clarke let her head fall back as she tried to gain some control and consciousness, feeling delirious and drowsy with desire. Soon Lexa picked up the pace, and made sure to press her fingers up to tap Clarke’s g-spot. Clarke had lost all control of this situation. Completely indisposed and at the mercy of Lexa’s actions, she was reduced to a needy mess, crying out obscenities with every press of bizarrely enjoyable pain.

“Are you okay?” Lexa asked breathlessly, straddling Clarke’s thigh to ride.

“Yes,” Clarke felt like she had stuttered. “I’ve just… never been fucked so hard before…”

“Should I go softer?” The woman whispered, grinding her own wet sex against Clarke’s leg. Clarke felt her own organ clench at the pleasant feel of Lexa’s arousal.

“No,” Clarke breathed, “Keep doing it, I like it.”

Lexa smirked and continued pressing her fingers roughly into Clarke, jerking her hand to keep tapping into Clarke’s favorite spot. Clarke reverted back to her uncontrollable cries of satisfaction within seconds, being ridden and fucked straight to hell- until she felt Lexa’s other hand press against her clit, Clarke was a goner. She couldn’t control anything as her whole body was consumed in the most euphoric orgasm of her entire life. Somewhere in the ecstasy of the white light, she heard Lexa’s climaxing moans as she road herself to the end against Clarke’s thigh.

As they both came to, Lexa rolled off of Clarke, both of them with heaving chests.

“That was… the best I have ever had,” Clarke truly admitted, feeling her sex throb with gratification.

Lexa laughed at the compliment, and kissed Clarke quickly on the cheek.

Clarke saw the light behind the Commander’s eyes and it brought her back to the reason why she was here in the first place, and her heart dropped.

“I can’t promise anything,” Lexa said quietly. “With the trial…”

“I know,” Clarke said, returning to her façade, “But at least we had this…”

Lexa nodded and slipped under her blankets, offering some to Clarke, who accepted her share. It didn’t take long for them to both feel exhausted, and Clarke fought furiously to not surrender to her drowsiness, and waited painfully for the Commander to fall asleep.         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Trust me, that sex scene was hard to write lol. I am never okay with any form of using or manipulating someone, so I do understand if this scene bothered anyone, especially since I acknowledge it so vehemently in Clarke's conscious. While they both consented to sex, the fact that Clarke's true motive is hidden from Lexa is what makes this uneasy.


	5. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The Arkadians run away and deal with the consequences of it.
> 
> I hope you guys like it. I know its not as popular as "The Cruelty of Fated Love", but I really enjoy writing this one, so I would appreciate love here too :)

            It felt like Clarke had only been lying awake for just a couple minutes when she heard something that sounded like a small commotion outside. As slowly and quietly as she could, Clarke removed herself from Lexa’s bedding, dressed back in her clothes, and tiptoed across the room to gently peer open the front door. The small village was quiet, and almost pitch black, with the exception of some sentry guards casually patrolling with torches. Yet not too far from Lexa’s cabin, Clarke could see her fellow Arkadians creeping against the exterior walls of the small buildings, whispering the same word with paranoia: her name.

            Slipping out of the cabin and gently closing the door behind her, she waved the Arkadians down. Hastily, yet as quietly as possible, the group made their way to Clarke.

            “It’s time to go,” Bellamy ordered in a whisper.

            “I thought you wanted me to stall her?” Clarke asked, lost in disbelief.

            “We didn’t know if you had the heart to do it, so we decided to escape tonight anyway,” Bellamy explained.

            “You slept with her?” Raven asked, trying to keep her own excited disbelief to a whisper.

            “Well, yes, I wanted to help us all out,” Clarke said with a frown, “Listen, I don’t think we should escape. You guys underestimated her interest in me, I got her emotionally invested.”

            Raven took this words in, all typical jest disappearing from her face, yet the rest of the group, was getting restless.

            “Look, we’re not going back in the pen, Clarke,” Bellamy said. “We’re out now and _this_ is our best chance at survival. Everyone’s asleep, they only have like five guards and they’re each isolated from the other. We aren’t going to find a better deal than this. If someone has kidnapped you to kill you, that’s going to be the end result no matter what happens in between. Your chances of survival increase when you bother to escape, not to stay.”

            “Then why did you even have me bother with her?” Clarke said, her voice rising as she seethed. She couldn’t believe this. She wasn’t upset because she slept with Lexa for them; she was upset because she just used someone’s genuine feelings for absolutely no reason now. She told herself she would have been okay with diverting Lexa if it had actually resulted in something beneficial for the greater good, but this was just cruel. She unearthed something she should have left alone if this was the intention all along.

            “Perhaps Clarke is right,” Raven said, raising her hands to remind people to keep their voices down.

            “Oh, what do you want me to do? Apologize?” Bellamy rolled his eyes in frustration. “I’m sorry, Clarke. I had faith when we pitched the idea, but sitting in a pen all day with no concept of time just made me restless. I did not want to wait to be killed. You’re lucky we even bothered to look for you among these cabins. I was just gonna have us all leave.”

            “Well perhaps she can still stay,” said Harper.

            Clarke’s eyes widened at the sense of betrayal. Sure the group was frightened, and this was fear aggressively talking, but she wasn’t going to be a group pawn anymore.

            “If Clarke stays behind, she will definitely delay the Commander from catching on that we have escaped, giving us more time,” Monty nodded, “But that would be leaving her to die. Who knows if their leader will take out the loss on Clarke or not. It’s a very selfish thing to do, leaving her behind.”

            “Clarke, decide now.” Bellamy said, “Be rational about your survival.”

            Clarke searched his eyes, sensing a small glimpse of true care. This was the last time Clarke would get the opportunity to seize her fate. Either she ran with them, or waited for a potentially unfair trial. She felt for Lexa, but… she had to survive.

            “Let’s go then,” Clarke sighed. Bellamy nodded with acceptance, waiving the rest of the small Arkadian band to continue their path through the village. Clarke found sneaking to be easy on her nearly healed injury, as all it required was for slow tender steps.

At the edge of the village was a clearing, and right at the end of it was a forest. If they could make it to the forest, the trees would hopefully protect them from being spotted. Bellamy led the way, followed by Octavia, Clarke, Raven, Harper, Monty, Monroe, Finn, and Murphy at the end, keeping an eye out for any tailing guards. Just as the tree line was getting closer, Murphy clicked his tongue, causing the train of Arkadians to come to a paralyzing halt. Slowly turning her head to see what the reason was, Clarke saw a Grounder guard standing at the edge of the village, starring straight at them. The Arkadians were frozen, and so was the guard, and it was impossible to tell if her saw them or if he was just looking out into the dark distance. No one made a move. All that could be heard were crickets and low labored breaths.

And then the guard shouted. Everyone’s hearts dropped to the floor, and before they all knew it, everyone was sprinting through the forest. It was madness- the line they had assembled to stay together was now broken, and it was every person for themselves. While Clarke may have felt that her ankle was on the way to a swift recovery, all progress was being derailed as she tried to push force and speed into her sprint. The white hot pain reemerged, yet she kept pushing herself, not even worrying about the tears forming in her eyes. However, she couldn’t last long, and came tripping down onto her knees. As she forced herself back up, someone swooped her into their arms. Looking around, she saw the pained and panicked face of Monty, “I’ve got you,” he said, in a failed attempt to reassure her. He had impressive speed for running with her, but Clarke knew all was lost when she heard the cracking barks of hunting dogs echoing through the trees. She could hear Monty’s throat drying as he breathed through his mouth, panting at each strained stride.

“Leave me, Monty,” Clarke offered, becoming content with sacrifice. “I’m just slowing you down. Saving me will get your killed. Go, put me down.”

“No,” Monty said, keeping his tired eyes on the path he was set to continue running down.

“Monty-”

The young man cried out in pain, falling to one knee, yet still holding Clarke. Pushing herself out of his grasp, Clarke knelt on the earthen ground, trying to see what happened. Attached to the back of his right thigh was one of the hunting hounds, gnawing at his leg. Reaching for a branch on the ground, Clarke began to attack the dog in return, hoping its jaws would release Monty. But Clarke was pulled to her feet as Grounders began to surround them. The dog was called off and both Clarke and Monty were placed in binds.

They were practically dragged back.

 Clarke hung her head in defeat as she saw the village appear on the horizon, and the sun rising up behind it. She didn’t know how long they had tried to escape through the forest, but the entire endeavor had brought them to the peak of morning, and Clarke wasn’t ready…

Looking up when her head was pulled back by her Grounder captive, Clarke saw the enraged eyes of Lexa, struggling to not brim with tears. The Commander sat on her war steed, reins in hand, and dressed in her tunic. She looked down at Clarke. She didn’t have to say a word, her eyes spoke for her.

“Lexa, I’m-”

“Lock her up with the rest,” Lexa interrupted, instructing the guard, “We’ll head for Polis in a few minutes.”

“Lexa-”

“Make sure you gag them for the trip.”

Clarke let her head hang. She knew there was no point in apologizing, especially not right now. Harper’s plan didn’t sound so bad after all now. But now they had absolutely no leverage. Now, they were guaranteed to die.

 

They had been placed in a wagon this time, and everyone who had attempted to escape was reunited in the pen. However this time, no one concocted any plans, or argued which plan they should have stuck with, they all just sat, defeated, swaying with the wagon. Lexa had not bothered to talk to Clarke for any reason, yet Clarke could see the hurt leader riding ahead, close by. There was no way for Clarke to tell how long the trip to Polis was, because every second waiting for her death made her feel like she was in the wagon for hundreds of lifetimes.

When they had arrived however, each Arkadian was strung up in a single file line again, bound to the same cord, and lead into a backdoor of a grand building, which had the feel of an old amphitheater. She could hear the roar of the Grounder crowd in the raised seats. The audience was excited.

Looking around, Clarke noticed that more and more strings of imprisoned Arkadians were being brought in, some she had never met before, but knew were part of the condemned group sent down with her. There had to be at least forty of them in total. It gave Clarke a small amount of pleasure knowing that most of the Arkadians had not been captured… for now.

Each lead by a guard, the strings of prisoners were lead onto stage, and Clarke felt her heart weakly hum at the intimidatingly large crowd. They were rabid with the excitement of Arkadians. To the far left of the stage stood Lexa, leaning on a great-sword.

            “My people,” Lexa projected her voice, firm and proud, “I have brought to you Arkadians.” The crowd erupted, their combined voices making the ground tremble. “They have fallen from the sky, exiled from Arkadia. They claim to be awaiting the returned attention of the gods.” The crowd laughed and roared. “They believe that if we keep them safe, the gods will notice us again. That is their claim. I believe that they are just here to be discarded, they no longer have any connection to the gods.” The crowd groaned its collective voice once more, agreeing with their leader.

            “And I,” Clarke’s ears picked up at the voice, looking about the stage to find Iso slowly making her way to Lexa’s side, “believe their presence mirrors ours.” The crowd softened their vocal presence as their renowned shaman spoke. “Centuries ago we were abandoned by the gods, and spent our generations begging for the attention to return. Now these people, find themselves where we started: abandoned by the gods and begging for the returned attention. Ask yourselves, my children, is this parallel simply just a coincidence or something more?”

            Clarke’s heart fluttered at the old woman’s words, placing all her hope in Iso’s hands. The crowd murmured, contemplating her words. “I believe the Arkadians. When the gods turn their attention back to these fallen souls, their attention will return to all of us. Perhaps it is our duty to let these Arkadians live among us in peace-”

            “To take care of these Arkadians, I’m sure,” Lexa interrupted. “They have a much different life than ours on Arkadia. They don’t have wars, murder, diseases, infant mortality, or any of the other countless tragedies we are forced to endure. If we are meant to let these Arkadians live, it’s probably to take care of them and continue their pampered lives.”

            Clarke’s heart was tender, recognizing the actions of a scorned woman in Lexa.

            “However, the call is not up to me,” Lexa said, leaning back on her great-sword. “Tell me, my people, keep the Arkadians as leverage for the gods, or kill them, since they probably won’t show up anyway. Which one will sooth your spiritual needs?”

            The crowd erupted in ambivalent responses, and all the Arkadians on stage tried to make out the answers, but their ears just thumped with their own heartbeats.

            “Kill?” Lexa’s voice projected, asking for clarification of the audience’s shouts. The amphitheater boomed in response. “So be it,” the Commander said with an unsatisfied grin. While Lexa was angry, it struck Clarke to see the woman not be enthusiastic about the sentence. “Bring me an Arkadian.”

            Lexa beckoned to a guard as the Grounder untied one Arkadian, a young boy no older than Clarke. The boy trembled, his legs visually shaking for all to see as he stumbled being lead to a stump and a large basket that was brought out by another guard.

            “Please,” he pleaded feebly, his hands clasped together as if in prayer. “Please don’t do this.”

            “Kneel,” Lexa commanded blandly.

            The guard pushed the boy down into a kneel, and forced him to lay his head sideways against the stump. He faced his people, each Arkadian terrified and wide-eyed.

            Clarke could hear Lexa take a deep breath before shouting to her crowd once more: “You wish to kill the Arkadians?” It was almost as if she was trying to get her people to change their mind, yet the crowd roared back in the affirmative, and Lexa closed her eyes as she laid the blade on the back of the boy’s neck. Getting her footing, she raised her arms, bringing the sword up high in the air, and stuck down as hard and fast as she could. Blood immediately squirted out of the boy’s neck as his spine was crumbled under the sharp steel, skin and muscle tearing quickly as his head dropped into the basket. The air was full of cheers and screams, and Clarke felt herself become dizzy.

            “Next,” Lexa said, in pure disgust.

            Clarke felt herself be yanked forward.

            “What?” she mumbled in disbelief. She thought they were going to continue with the string they had started.

            “Come,” the guard grumbled, tugging her off of her line.

            “No,” Clarke retorted, her survival instincts going into overdrive. She shrugged the guard off, who pushed her forward. “Lexa!” she shouted, “Lexa, please! Don’t do this! Lexa!!” Clarke’s voice was shrill and desperate, shaking the core of each enthralled audience member. “Please!”

            Lexa did not watch Clarke get pushed forward, or pressed down into the block. Lexa looked away, waiting for Clarke to stop pleading.

            “Please, I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry for what happened. I didn’t want to at first, please Lexa. I didn’t want to leave. But I was scared. I just wanted to live. That’s all, I just want to live, I didn’t want to hurt you! Please, please!”

            Lexa finally turned to face Clarke bent at the stump. Her green eyes were turning red with emotion, yet it seemed to be a combination of anger, hurt, and pity. Clarke on the other hand, was a crying mess, feeling the still warm blood on the stump pressed into her cheek. Her arms trembled in her binds, and her head swam with the desire to surrender. “Please, god, Lexa, I just wanted to live.” Her pleads eventually reduced to incoherent sobs, and Lexa looked down quietly, noticing the crowd’s silence as well.

            Clarke heard the rise of Lexa’s sword and groaned, hot tears rolling across her face. The wet bloody blade lined up with her neck for a few seconds, before it was removed, no doubt raised for the strike, and then-

            “No!” shouted a voice from the crowd. “Let us wait!”

            Clarke wished she could have turned her head to see who was the speaker, her potential savior.

            “Why so?” Lexa asked, searching for her subject in the crowd, lowering her sword to Clarke’s side.

            “It would be wiser to encompass both perspectives,” the man in the crowd continued. “If these Arkadians have the potential to regain the attention of the gods, why not do things to accelerate that. Execute an Arkadian once a day. That way, those who seek revenge are satisfied, yet those who are curious about this chance are satisfied as well. It is the perfect way to appease both.”

            Lexa’s body language shifted, truly curious about this. “What says the rest of you? One a day?”  

            The crowd murmured before collectively cheering for the idea. Lexa nodded, reaching down to pick Clarke up herself. Clarke was still shaking and emotional, yet still managed a weak “thank you,” towards Lexa.

            “Don’t thank me,” Lexa fronted, “thank my people.” And while she lead Clarke back to her line for them all to be locked away, Clarke’s heart surged as she saw none other than Wells Jaha dressed like a Grounder emerged in the crowd.


	6. 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Clarke spends some days in prison, and an act of nature just might be an act of god...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Show me some love at my tumblr! socialdisease609.tumblr.com
> 
> Give me some notifications to look forward to, even if they're just anonymous asks! I want something else to get notified about besides the random porn blogs that add me out of nowhere lol

            Clarke leaned her head against the metal bars of her cell, sitting on the stone floor with her legs stretched out. Silent tears of gratefulness were streaking down her face slowly, her blue eyes staring off into the distance, her mind numb. Seeing Wells in the crowd the other day gave her hope, a feeling she thought she’d never feel again. She had wondered how he managed to disguise himself as a Grounder, and if any other Arkadians had been so lucky as to stealthily adapt into this new community. If only she had been so lucky.

            A tear had rolled its way down to a corner of her lips, which she subconsciously licked away, focusing on the flavor of salt rather than the gratefulness she wished she was ashamed of. The reason for her being grateful was simple; not only was she spared from execution two days ago, but today the guards had come down to the cells to pick who would face the chopping block again, and they didn’t even bother to look at her, they took someone else instead. Yesterday was a young red-headed girl of the age of seventeen, today was a bald-headed muscular boy. No doubt everyone else was breathing sighs of relief that they were not the chosen ones.

            Surprisingly, many of the jailed Arkadians had taken to prayer again, spending hours desperately dropping to their knees, clasping their hands, and begging the heavens to interfere. Clarke said no prayers; all she could think about outside of guilt and relief was Lexa. The Commander had not bothered to see any of them since that first day of executions. Clarke suspected that Lexa had given the order to keep the Arkadians fed twice a day, though. She felt this on a hunch because Raven and Bellamy had stated that the water was clearer and the food was fresher and heavier than when they were locked in the village pen. Clarke had wondered if this was just because they were imprisoned in a city or if it was because Lexa wanted Clarke to eat well, and didn’t want to make an obvious gesture of favoritism and fed them all decently. … that’s if there was any glimmering chance of affection left in Lexa’s bruised heart for Clarke.

            The death of the muscular youth had marked the end of the third day, if Clarke would be the last one chosen out of the remaining locked away, she would only have about thirty-seven days left to live. If she was picked tomorrow, she had approximately twenty-four hours left. The other sixty Arkadians roaming the world had the best hand of cards.

            As she shifted her posture for a brief second, Clarke could hear the loud crackle of thunder outside, followed by a tumultuous rainfall. The jail cells were underground of whatever building they were kept in, but the rainfall was harsh enough to make its presence known even beneath the foundations of the architecture. Letting the pellets of rain comfort her, Clarke let herself be lulled to sleep. What else was she going to do anyway?

            The next morning Clarke woke up to the sound of the guards making their way down the stone stairs to serve breakfast: a small roll of bread and a piece of fried ham, accompanied by the filling of their small leather-skin canteens. They all ate cautiously, as if the small portion of food was going to be snatched from them, but the real reason was because they knew that once everyone was finished, a sacrifice would be chosen. Breakfast was your last meal, only those remaining were rewarded with dinner. As Clarke slowly chugged her water, she could hear that the rain was still present. A storm in the making.

            The guards then chose the unfortunate soul to lose their life: a lightly-tanned boy no older than fifteen. He wailed desperately, reaching out for his fellow cellmates, begging them to hold him back, but all efforts were futile.

            Dinner came: a bowl of wild rice and a quaint bunch of green grapes. The storm was still pounding away.

            Day five arrived, and Clarke was greeted to the same breakfast. The guards took a blonde girl who looked like her. The rain and thunder continued to roar.  

            Dinner came: a bland baked potato and two pieces of dried jerky. The quaint meal was interrupted though. The storm raged on and on, and water began to seep into some corners of the prison room. Clarke quietly watched the guards try to plug up the cracks forming in the walls and soak up the forming puddles with rags, as she softly gnawed on a piece of jerky. How the last days of her life would be: finding entertainment in watching maintenance be done.

            “Heda!” grunted guards on the other side of the room. Quickly turning her head to pay attention, Clarke saw Lexa making her way down the stone steps of the prison, looking incredibly stressed. She walked past the guards and stood in front of the cells, watching the Arkadians stare back at her like wild deer.

            “Stop the rain,” was all she said. The Arkadians didn’t move, but looked at each other through the corners of their eyes, collectively confused.

            “What do you mean?” Clarke asked, her heart beating so fast she felt queasy.

            “The rain. My people say this storm has been brought on by the Gods to punish us for beheading those Arkadians.” Lexa replied, her tone all business. Clarke watched Lexa’s eyes survey her form, and looked down at the ground ashamed, realizing that she must be looking so disheveled.

            “Then stop killing us,” Clarke said, sounding more aggressive than she meant. She wanted to say it as a simple suggestion, not an instigation. Lexa took a few steps forward to the cell Clarke was in, the sound of her boot heels echoing throughout the stone chamber.

            “So this is because of you?” Lexa asked, matching Clarke’s tone of aggression.

            Clarke sighed as she kept looking at the ground. Who knew? Maybe it was the Gods, maybe it was just a damn hurricane. The Grounders were running off of spiritual fervor, no wonder they immediately associated the storm to a religious cause. But Clarke felt a feeling of déjà vu. This was another chance at survival, and this time, she would utilize this opportunity to benefit both parties, not just one.

            “It’s because of you,” Clarke began, finally looking up to seek Lexa in the eye. “Why would the gods bother to communicate with us when the attention they need to grab is yours? The rain is a form of communication, they want you to stop. If you don’t believe me, don’t kill any of us tomorrow, and I guarantee the storm will cease.” Clarke could feel everyone’s eyes on her as they watched her spin these lies. “If it does stop, and you think it’s just a coincidence, once you kill another one of us either the storms will return or you will be visited by another plague.”

            Lexa remained silent and searched Clarke’s stone cold eyes, looking for traces of a bluff. “You told me when I found you that you were a favorite to the gods,” she began, “you have not heard a single word from them about these storms?”

            “Like I said, they want to speak to you, why would they talk to me when I haven’t done anything? This whole exile my people and I are going through is because of my outburst. Your persecution has stunted our opportunities to repent. You think that made the gods view you in a favorable light? And then you decided to kill my people? Congratulations, you have finally achieved your duty: to regain the attention of the gods. They see you now, and they are obviously not happy,” Clarke found herself speaking ominously with a strong bearing of sarcasm, continuing, “You must feel like a failure now…” The room began to ice over with tension as Clarke tread onto a verbal mine field, “Your life’s purpose was to appease your people by bringing them spiritual satisfaction, more particularly regaining the attention of the gods. Well, you got the wrong type…”

            “And how do you suppose I fix this?” Lexa seethed, her stature rigid with controlled temper.

            “Let us out. Stop killing us. Leave us be.”

            “I can’t” Lexa retorted.

            “Why not?”

            “Too much of a risk. You could be lying, it wouldn’t be the first time…”

            Clarke took a moment before responding, knowing exactly where Lexa was pulling this from. “If you believe the gods will pay more attention to me because I’m a favorite, how about this?” Clarke asked, her own temper getting the better of her, “Take me out of here. Did you experience any type of divine rebellion when you nursed me back to health from my injured ankle?” Lexa remained quiet, waiting for Clarke to finish, “Feed me, bathe me, clothe me- take care of me so that I can go about and pilgrimage to the gods for you. And if I am right about the gods not lashing out after you take me in and stop killing my people, you must promise to let all of my people go. Every single one of them.”

            “You have a week to prove yourself, Clarke,” Lexa said, her guard loosening slightly. “I will have you taken care of, and I will not touch a hair on any Arkadian’s head, for an entire week, you have my word that they will not be harmed. I want more proof besides a change of weather that the gods are noticing my actions. If you cannot be given a divine sign by the end of the week, you will be the next to be executed.”

            Clarke watched Lexa, ignoring the voice in her head wanting to suggest to Lexa to forget all about the gods. This spiritual reliance in the Commander’s community was unhealthy, and everyone’s lives would be so much better without it. But Clarke agreed to the terms, and she was set free from her cell. As she followed behind Lexa’s footsteps up the stairs, she turned to look at the other Arkadians, who watched in awe and jealousy. She must make sure that they reap benefits too. She must work hard for them.

           

* * *

 

            Clarke was assigned to a simple room with a guard at the door, to be there at all times. There was a tin bathtub in the far left corner, a small square window above it, and a straw bed to the right corner. Her only source of light aside from the moonlight was a single wall sconce with a candle already decorated with a dancing flame. As the door closed behind her, Clarke briskly walked up to the window, and opened the glass. The smell of damp rainy air immediately filled the room and Clarke watched the storm continue through the night sky.

            Not soon after was there a knock at her door, and before she could grant admittance, the door was pushed open by the guard outside, and in came Lexa. Whatever smile Clarke may have had due to the pleasure of fresh air, had fallen, and a serious defensive energy took over.

            “I hope you’re right about this,” Lexa said calmly, as she closed the door behind her. She walked closer to Clarke and extended her arm, revealing that she held a leather-bound book. “If this room is not a token of good faith, perhaps this will suffice.” Clarke took the book and opened it to the flyleaf. It was a collection of philosophical essays. “My mother used to tell me that the spirit cannot survive long without the mind, so… I was hoping you would enjoy this book. Intellectual growth usually reinvigorates my spirituality, perhaps it will give you pleasure as well.”

            “Why are you so different here?” Clarke asked, trying not to be defensive.

            Lexa paused, grinding her jaw for a moment before answering, “You hurt me, Clarke, that is no surprise. I’m also the sole leader of a massive community demanding spiritual gratification. It’s a heavy, and seemingly impossible burden. I must be unwavering in front of my people, but I am not a divine. I am human, and must take a break from time to time or I would go more insane than I already feel.”

            Clarke believed her. Besides, she didn’t have time to hold a grudge if she wanted to free her people. “About how I hurt you,” Clarke began, wanting to give a real apology. “I just want you to know that I … I only _left_ your bed to survive.”

            Lexa scoffed with a hint of a chuckle, “You don’t need to lie to me anymore, Clarke, I know the game when I see it. I knew it was too good to be true when you pretended to confess your feelings for me, but I couldn’t help myself. Your act was too irresistible. You got _in_ my bed to survive, when you left my bed you did it to help the others, at your own peril. I just hope you don’t make the same mistake this time.” Lexa’s friendly tone had disappeared, and Clarke caught on to the implication, yet demanded clarification.

            “What do you mean?”

            “You think I don’t know that you got under my skin just to get out of your cell? Those were bold words for someone whose life is in danger,” Lexa smirked, “I’m almost proud of you, calling me out like that, you knew I wouldn’t be able to just let that go. You have turned me into a god-fearing woman.”

            Clarke was silent, she was tired of lying, and didn’t see the point in continuing.

            “All we can do is just hope that your boldness actually turns out to be true, for all our sakes. I’m tired of it all. Good night, Clarke of Arkadia, I will see you in the morning with a hearty breakfast to test your hypothesis- if the rain has stopped, of course.” With that, Lexa took her leave, closing the door gently behind her, leaving Clarke to ponder her potential future.

           

* * *

 

            The next morning Clarke woke up feeling the most rested she had ever felt since her days on Arkadia. The straw bed wasn’t a masterpiece, but it sure as hell beat the stone cold floors of the prison cells. She walked past the window as sun broke through, illuminating the room, and picked up a pitcher of water by the bathtub and began to splash some of it onto her face. It was a welcomed feeling, and she began to think about what kind of breakfast Lexa would bring, and how she could influence the Commander to feed the others a good breakfast too, when- she noticed it.

            The sun! Clarke bolted to the window and looked outside, seeing the sun bright and clear in a cloudless sky. The storm was gone! Clarke felt a stone drop in her stomach as she began to believe her own story- perhaps the storm was sent by the gods and they had heard her plan towards Lexa.

            _Clarke…_

            She froze. Was she… was she hearing things?

            _Clarke…_ the voice repeated again. She knew that voice…

            “Clarke!” the door to her bedroom opened and at the threshold stood a bewildered and excited Lexa, and the heartbreaking glint of nothing but renowned faith shinning in her eyes.         

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Show me some love at my tumblr! socialdisease609.tumblr.com
> 
> Give me some notifications to look forward to, even if they're just anonymous asks! I want something else to get notified about besides the random porn blogs that add me out of nowhere lol


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